


Valentines Mayhem

by Ee_vvaa



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Sitcom, Valentine's Day, someone help Smoke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 22:55:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17755055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ee_vvaa/pseuds/Ee_vvaa
Summary: Smoke takes Mute out for a Valentine’s Day date and he has a plan to ensure it will be the best date Mute has ever been on. However, half the things he wants to do backfire right into his face.





	Valentines Mayhem

**Author's Note:**

> My entry to [Siege The Valentines](https://dualrainbow.tumblr.com/post/182389423633/siege-the-valentines-hello-everyone-with-the) event on Tumblr! Many wonderful and incredible writers with beautiful stories to read, so please do check it all out! I want to thank my cousin who had to suffer and edit my story, and for always being such a darl.

A long and low groan resonated within the brightly lit room; a lone figure stood by his wooden desk looking rather distressed for such a romantic day. What could possibly be causing him such affliction? Well, the day was Valentine's Day and Smoke was struggling to get everything perfect for his date later with his boyfriend, who was currently making adjustments to his jammers in the workshop. He grumbled some more whilst glaring down at the red heart shaped box before him, mocking him for being such a dumbass, blinding him with how fucking bright it was. Should he wrap it or leave it be? If he does, should he wrap a ribbon around it or slap on the gift toppers he had left from Christmas? Would he ruin the gift by doing so? His brain was running at full power, completely in turmoil and surely a headache was just  _waiting_ to steam train its way into his noggin. Usually, he would just half ass things again - much like last year where they stayed at his apartment - however,  _this_  year, he wanted it to be different. He wanted to surprise and spoil Mute from head to toe, encasing him in nothing but the best of the best of things, and yet, sadly, the Brit now absolutely regretted and hated his decision.

Throwing his head back as his hands clawed at his face, Smoke let out another frustrated groan, not believing that he has spent  _fifteen minutes_  justcontemplating on what to do. A heavy sigh sounded from his phone, followed by an amused chuckle from another.

“Just wrap the stupid thing already,” grumbled an annoyed German, “it wouldn't make much of a difference.”

“Are you daft, Dom? Are you asking Mark to dump me?”

“No, look, I'm on a date of my own an-”

“A  _double_ date you mean,” Kapkan interjected slyly, and Smoke can just  _see_ the stupid smirk curled on his stupidly good looking face. “Oh, did you lose already?”

“Are you  _fucking_ joking? As if I'll lose to that _Italian_  peacock!” Bandit hissed through clenched teeth.

“Don't hurt yourself, друг (friend),” chuckled the amused Russian. “And James, do your brain a favour and just leave the gifts as is.”

“I say just wrap it and make it look…decent.” Bandit paused, thinking, then added, “For your level of gift wrapping anyway.”

“Fine, I’ll leave it!” the Brit exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air dramatically, “Now leave the call, you’re both so needy.”

“You’re lucky I’m not there to punch you square in the face,” Kapkan joked with a low laugh, or hopefully he was joking, anyway. “Russian style.”

“And then Mark can kiss it better. Hah!”

“Alright, bugger off you arses.” James chuckled before the calls ended with a press of a finger. He yanked at the tapes and strips of paper that had gotten stuck to his arms, struggling to throw them into the bin in the process, but somehow managing to, after several hard flicks of the wrist. Glancing back at his desk, it’s covered in an array of colourful ribbons of various widths and designs, rolls upon rolls of wrapping paper taking up all the remaining space that is left of his desk, and leftovers from an eventful Christmas. He’ll clean it up later, or when he needs it again, but he’ll get to it...eventually. He looks at the gifts he had gotten, smiling proudly that he was able to grab everything he needed – though he still couldn’t believe he had to yank the stuffed bear from a male teen the other day, still hilarious to see the puzzled face on the lad. Smoke shoved the boxed gifts into the bag and, holding the delicate flowers in the other, exits his room and makes his way towards the workshop to surprise his boyfriend. Surely he’ll love and enjoy the presents.

*

He had assumed it was going to be easy. You know, give a box of chocolate or a bouquet of roses and say ‘Happy Valentine's Day. I love you’, and then surprise them even further by giving them the item of which they've been wanting to get for ages but never could, which would lead to you being wrapped tightly in the arms of your lover. But nope, wrong! So bloody wrong

Smoke stares, flabbergasted, at his boyfriend, who had gotten right back to working on his jammer after receiving his gifts. His  _Valentine's Day_ gifts. His eyes slowly shifted over to the heart shaped box of chocolates, bouquet of flowers, and small teddy bear lying on the chair. Discarded and already forgotten, he couldn’t help but feel a small pang in his chest and a frown crawling onto his lips.

The shorter Brit was unsure of what to do at this point - to leave or to stay. It did not go according to his plan - at no point did he even think he’d get this sort of reaction…okay, maybe he did, considering Mute was a man of few words. Though, he did know that he wanted to impress his lover that day and he was going to go all out even if it kills him. Taking small steps towards Mute’s workstation, shoes scraping against the floor, he inched closer to his boyfriend little by little. He cleared his throat in the hopes of catching said man's attention. It did not. Smoke tried again and again and again, the sound getting louder and louder with each throat-clearing. He leaned an arm against the little free space on the top and drummed his finger against the table, another hope to get Mark’s attention. It did not, but it did catch someone else’s, and clearly they were not pleased by this disturbance.

“ _Mierda!_  (Fuck!),” cursed Mira, who slammed her wrench onto the table, whipping her head around, hazel eyes glaring daggers at Smoke, growing extremely tired of his antics. “Either you keep quiet or you leave, Porter. Some of us are trying to work.” Shooting the Brit one last look, she returned her attention back to the pile of metal parts and tools, not before adding: “In peace.”

Several chuckles could be heard as Smoke instantly straightened up, head slightly lowered and cheeks tinted pink in embarrassment from being lectured. As if his pride hadn’t been wounded enough, his lover had just let out a long languid sigh as he stopped working on his jammer and turned to look at him. The older SAS operator was about to part his lips to quickly say something, anything to turn the situation around, but Mute had raised a hand to stop him.

“I’ll see you in a few hours, James,” Mark stated,  dropping the hand onto his shoulder, and, if you listened carefully and  _really_ hard, you could hear Smoke’s heart crack just a little…or a lot. As though his lover was able to sense his sadness, the younger added, “Thank you for the gifts. A little cheesy, but I appreciate them. See you in a few.”

Perking up almost instantaneously, James nodded his head eagerly and planted a quick peck on his lover’s cheek before darting off towards the exit rather excitedly, much like a pup in anew home. He stopped after swinging the door open full force – and thank god he had, or he would’ve run right into it for sure. Just before leaving, he turned to Mute to says: “See ya later, babe!” The door closed shut and peaceful silence returned once more to the workshop.

“How do you put up with him?” Jäger asked curiously after Smoke had left. “He has so much energy and loudness.”

“Just like how you and the rest of the GSG9 put up with Dominic, mate.”

“Fair enough,” chuckles the German engineer.

*

Back in his own room, Smoke was  _sweating_ profusely. That almost went south, and to think, his own brain had flown out the window and abandoned him. His  _own_ brain  _abandoned_  him. He needed to come up with something, anything to ensure that their date later would do both smoothly and be one of the best dates Mark had ever been on even if it kills him. He was contemplating on whether or not to call or text Bandit and Kapkan for help but decided not to; they were both busy enough with their own partners already. Kapkan was out on a date with Glaz, both attending a special event and, if he remembered correctly, a really nice restaurant. Bandit, on the other hand, was on a double date with Montagne, Sledge, and Maestro that somehow had turned into a competition between the German and Italian, judging who could please their partner most without being caught. Cracking his knuckles, James whipped out his phone and began typing into Google places to go for dates, quickly jotting down good ones.

This went on for a good hour or two, after which he triumphantly grinned to himself for getting such a good list together that surely would make this date the best. Taking a look at the time, his eyes widened in astonishment: he had an hour and forty-five minutes to get ready and that wouldn’t be enough to get this mess of a person ready in time. Literally jumping out of bed, he grabbed a new set of clothing and boxers before making a mad dash for the bathroom. Spotting Thatcher at the entrance of the bathroom, Smoke quickened his pace, pushing the older man to the floor before slamming the door and locking it with a click.

“Bloody hell, James?” Thatcher boomed angrily, slowly getting back to his feet and knocking on the door.

“Emergency, Mike, spare me for today!”

“Emergency my arse…fine! Hurry up.” With that being said, the older SAS operative left whilst grumbling and rubbing his bottom from the fall. Sighing in relief, Smoke quickly started getting ready – brushing his teeth, rubbing deodorant and gel through his hair. It takes a lot of work to look good, all right? Half way through slipping on his shirt, he realised he had gotten the wrong pair of pants and groaned in exasperation. Since he was practically is done, anyway, he grabbed all his things and left for his room. “All yours now.”

“Mate, you look shittier than before.”

“Zip it Mike, it’s a process!” James hollered back, slamming the door shut and dropping everything to the floor. He speed walked over to his bed, tearing off the pants and replacing it with the correct one. All right, smelling and looking good, all done. Now all he had to do was text Mute to meet him at the car park and they could be on their way to their date.

*

Smoke stood by the entrance to the base’s car park, a hand shoved in his pocket while the other busily scrolls through his phone. He glanced at the sky, frowning slightly as it was slightly cloudy and he prayed it wouldn’t rain on their date. Sounds of footfalls caught his attention. Turning towards the source, he grinned and shoved his phone into his jacket pocket. Mute looked absolutely handsome and good in his normal clothes, a good change from their usual uniforms and gears or sweatpants and simple t-shirts. James noticed the large sports bag his lover was carrying and pointed towards it curiously.

“Just some stuff,” Mute simply stated, shrugging the bag to adjust it on his shoulder.

Shrugging, Smoke gestured towards his car where they both climbed in, Mute tossing the bag into the back seat. Adjustments were made to the seats and mirrors after having lent it to Lesion. Seatbelts were clicked into place, key in the ignition, and with a twist, the engine roared into power, car put into gear, and they were off. The drive was pleasant. As usual, they chatted about their week and he would talk about the pranks he had played – obviously leaving out the parts where he had gotten in trouble. It wasn’t long before they reached their destination: the shopping centre. It was busier than usual for obvious reasons. Finding a parking spot was challenging, but he wasn’t surprised, though it pissed him that it took more than an hour to find one. After another good drive around the stupid parking lot, they  _finally_  find a spot, thank the almighty. Exiting the car and then locking it, the duo made their way into the shopping centre, filled with crowds of people, especially couples. Pink and red decorations shimmered and twirled, really bringing out the Valentine’s Day spirit into couples of all ages.

“Want to grab a bite to eat first?” Smoke asked Mute, who nodded his head and followed after him. The two ventured towards the food court as best as they could through the crowd. It was frustrating, having to dodge people and look around for his lover, which resulted in him having to grab Mark’s hand. He could feel it, that butterfly feeling you get when being around the person you cherish and love the most, the tingling feeling in your hand when touching them and the rush of warmth to your face and how you just can’t help but smile optimistically for being around them. This is what Mute caused his body and mind to do, and he  _fucking_  loved everything about it.

When they did arrive at the food court, he wasn’t surprised that it, too, was extremely packed, so they ended up just grabbing coffee.

“So, where to next?” Mark sipped at his coffee while waiting for an answer. Smoke could sense the curiosity seeping out of him and he chuckled quietly to himself.

“Downstairs to the arcade,” James answered, lips still attached to the coffee cup as he drank up the warmth. Finishing their beverages, they started their way towards the arcade and enjoyed making bets between one another. Every so often, when they got to play a game, Smoke and Mute would make little bets against one another for fun – Smoke keeping his tricks to a minimum.

Loud music blared within the arcade, neon lights giving the place a fun and exciting mood. Various machines ranging from cranes to button smashing to driving and even shooting all lined the walls and littered the room. Laughter and screams could be heard through the booming of music, smiles plastered on kids’ and even adults’ faces, and it all just brought back memories of his childhood. Entering the arcade, they made their way towards the counter to exchange money for coins, beginning to wait. An idea abruptly popped into Smoke’s mind and he thought it’d be both hilarious and fun to do. So clearing his throat and looking Mute dead in the eyes he says with a wink: “Do you like Science because I got my ion you.”

The younger SAS lad blankly stared at him with furrowed brows, confusion clearly written all over his face. “Say that again? Kids were screaming behind me.” He indicated to a child wailing at the top of his lungs in front of a losing game of Flappy Bird.

Smoke wanted to die right then and there. Never had he ever used a pick-up line - okay maybe that was a lie and a half; he had used it before but never on Mark -and the  _one_ time he uses one, it gets drowned out by a wailing child. He shook his head and stated it was nothing and not to worry. The staff member eventually came back with their coins. The two operators journeyed through the arcade for games to play. They settled for a classic game of Street Fighter; coins were inserted and the machine lit to life with the upbeat music blaring into their ears. Characters were chosen and they went at it in a virtual fight, each round that went by becoming more and more intense, causing Smoke to even shed off his jacket and tie it around his waist. The game ended with Mute winning by one, but even though he’d wanted to win himself, the day was Mute’s day, and if it made his boyfriend happy, he reasoned, then, sure, he’ll accept defeat. For today. Taking his phone out, he tapped at the screen before tapping his beloved’s shoulder to turn around. He couldn’t help but laugh seeing a grimace plastered on a rabbit-eared Mute - he snapped the shot and saved it immediately, to which the other glared daggers at him that pretty much said ‘Delete it or you’re dead to me’. He deleted it on the app and not from his camera roll – he had to set it as the profile picture later.

For the following three to four hours, the pair spent their time and money at the arcade, battling it out with each other or working together in the virtual world. At some games, they had attracted a small crowd which were all amazed by their skills and quick thinking – if only they knew why they were both so good. On a few instances, kids would bump into them accidently, except for one that deliberately kicked at Smoke’s shin for not hurrying up. Another instance was during one round of laser tag where someone told James that he was ‘too old’ to play the game, and,  _boy_ did he want to shoot the kid throughout the round, but he held back, wanting to be a good sport. Taking a break from all the gaming, they took a seat at a bench in front of the arcade. Smoke turned to Mute, offering him a bottle of water, which he took gratefully.

“You know, we’re not socks,” the older and shorter Brit began as he eyed his partner, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “but I think we’ll make a great pair.”

“Please don’t associate me to socks,  _especially_  to yours,” Mark retorted quickly and bluntly, nose scrunched up in disgruntlement. “And if that’s your pick-up line to me, you should try harder.”

“Damn, babe, I have feelings.”

“What feelings?”

“Who’s teaching you all this? Is it Dom? Max? I bet it’s them!” he gasped, a hand clenched to the left of his chest where his heart was feigning hurt. Mute let out a quiet chuckle, one that was hard to hear with all the noise going on, but he heard it and boy, was it music to his ears. “Hey, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

“Are you calling me Satan?” Mute shot the query of his own nonchalantly, his hand halting in screwing the bottle’s cap back on.

“It  _is_  them! Oh my god, they’re tainting you!” Smoke exclaimed in horror, causing his boyfriend to chortle briefly.

“So, what now? What do you have planned?”

“How about a movie? I’ve already bought the tickets so you can’t say no.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Mark rolls his eyes, standing up to throw the bottle away. James chuckles and joins his partner, taking a hold of his hand once more and dragging him towards the cinema. He was glad that the date had gone pretty well and smoothly thus far -  _too_  smoothly, in fact. He had a gut feeling that Fate had something special in store for him and he just hoped Lady Luck was on his side today to counter it.

Arriving at the cinema wasn’t as tough as getting to the arcade, thank heavens for that, so he marched them both up into the short line in front of the counter. Tickets he bought online were checked and then scanned. Passing through, he gave Mute the tickets while he went to buy them popcorn and a drink from the snack bar. It was a bit of a wait but nothing to worry about, he knew they were both not going to eat much, so had only ordered a small – he had his mind on taking Mark to this fancy restaurant Rook had mentioned he had taken Blitz to. Thanking the cashier and returning back to his partner, they both continued their way to the cinema room number and then did a short search for their seat number. The entire room darkened the moment they sat down, Smoke snaked an arm across Mute’s shoulder and pulled him closer to him, he silently cursed the armrest for block him from getting to feel more of the other’s warmth. The movie had barely started and already their hands had been laced together and would only part to nibble on popcorn or take a sip of their beverage. The flashes of light from the screen illuminated Mark in such a godly way, highlighting certain features in such a unique and stunning manner. Eyes filled with wonders and curiosity were glued on the screen, lips plumped and slightly dry, perhaps the doing of the salted snacks, but he would still kiss them anyway. Strong hands held onto his and he could feels the scars and blisters from times he had burnt himself or bullets had scrapped at it. The world could both be dark and bright, cruel and yet beautiful all at the same time, but with their jobs, they saw more of the cruelty of it than anyone else. He wanted to protect Mark from it all, to be his shield or the toxic smoke that chokes out those whoever dared lay a harming finger on his beloved; he’ll choke and tear them to shreds – bring chaos to those who even dreamed of hurting Mark, his friends, and families.

The movie ran just a little over two hours and within those two hours, James enjoyed every second he had with Mark and, funnily enough, he’d barely watched the movie at all, having been staring at his lover most of the time, just admiring him quietly.

When the lights came back on and the credits were rolling, Mute detached himself from Smoke in order to stretch his arms, letting out a crack once or twice. They left the room and threw their rubbish away, chattering about certain scenes and dialogues – Smoke having to bullshit though.

“His new suit reminded me of corn,” James stated just as they passed the poster on the wall and points to it: “See? Corn.”

“At least he can pull it off, you wouldn’t be able to.”

“Sure I can, I look just as good if not better, babe.”

“Keep dreaming, James.”

“Oh yeah? And do you want to see a beautiful person?” Smoke, taking another shot at pick-up lines, asks Mute who only raised a brow in response, eyes questioning everything from the posed query to why his boyfriend was pulling out his phone and tapping at the screen. James turned the phone around to have the screen facing Mark, who only looks at him even more baffled.

“Am I supposed to understand the joke?”

“What? No. It’s a photo of you.” He quickly shot back, brows furrowed in confusion.

“No, that’s a photo of a shirtless Adriano.”

“What?” Smoke quickly pulled his phone back and  _holy shit_  it is a photo of a shirtless Maestro standing in front of a High Striker booth, the hammer clasped in his hands and ready to smash the bell.  _Fucking Bandit! Why did he have to send the picture now of all time?_ He groans irritably, taps a quick ‘Fuck you’ to Bandit and swiped at the photo to show Mute, “Here! It’s you.”

“No, still Adriano.”

“What? No…oh my god, motherfu-who is it now? Maxim!” Sighing in defeat, he threw his hands in the air to emphasise the defeat before pocketing his phone. “Forget about that and let’s just leave.”

The evening sky greeted them when they got outside, with shades of dark blues that could be seen mixing with purples and oranges. They returned to the car, and, unfortunately for James, someone had keyed it. It wasn’t bad and would be easy to fix, but that was such a dick move. If he knew who it was, he’ll surely return the favour by stabbing into one or two of their tires and dumping detergent down the gaps of the windshield. He could see the concerned look in Mute’s eyes and he reassured him that it was no problem to fix; this had happened before, so it wouldn’t be any different this time. Smoke climbed into the car, Mute following suit, and they left the parking lot for their final destination. This place he had been looking forward to for weeks and of which he couldn’t wait for Mute to see - all money was on this one place.

“Where to now?” Mark questioned, switching the radio channel.

“Dinner. I know a really good place to go and I think you’ll like it.”

“Bold of you to assume things.”

“Ya love it when I do,” he shot cheekily, which earned him a punch to the arm. “Hey, driving here.” 

*

“What do you mean, it’s full?” Smoke inquired in frustration. “I made a reservation for two weeks ago.”

“Yes, Sir, you did, but we miscalculated and there is no table for you. I deeply apologise for the inconvenience.”

“No, please, there  _has_ to be a table left.”

“I’m sorry, Sir, there truly are are none. I honestly am very sorry,” the waiter apologised before gesturing for the two to leave. Smoke had wanted to take Mute to this fancy restaurant for weeks, saved up for it even, and had been looking forward to it all day. He didn’t have a plan B, what was he supposed to do? That had literally just thrown  _everything_  down the drain. He could feel frustration and a whirlwind of emotions tornado-ing within him. He wracked at his brain in hopes of figuring things out, to turn this around, and all he needed to do was ponder. A warm and comforting hand came to rest on his shoulder, pulling him out of his train of thoughts. He turned to see Mute with a vexed expression plastered on his face that just slapped him right across the face.

“You know, I don’t need fancy things or a spectacular date,” his lover began, retracting his hand from Smoke’s shoulder to take his hand instead, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “As cheesy as it sounds, just spend time with me. You’re really a dimwit sometimes, you know that?”

Smiling a little, he nodded his head and tightened his grip on Mute’s hand. “Yeah... thanks babe. So, what now?”

“Well, I have a slight idea.” Seeing a smirk on Mark’s face was like a whole new experience. Rarely did he ever show it, but when he did, it was usually a good thing, hopefully. Following his boyfriend lead them to a little café filled with people, and it just seemed like déjà vu all over again. “Stay here for a minute.”

Smoke stood by the drink fridge, hands shoved into his jacket pocket as his eyes fixed onto his boyfriend, standing at the counter ordering something. It was a nice and cosy café, homey even with the way how it was decorated, which gave some kind of warmth. The lights weren’t blinding bright white light, but a warmer one, the walls were an extremely pale peachy colour and the tables were strangely adorable to him with the way they were designed. The delicious aroma of warm food wafted into his nose and drew his attention again to Mute, a brown bag clasped in his hand  which he assumed was where the smell had originated from. Following him out and back towards his car, near the park, Smoke was curious as to why they were going back.

“I need to grab something from my bag,” Mark stated, as though he could read his mind, though then again, they knew almost everything about one another. Shrugging, he thought nothing of it and pulled out his keys instead. Smoke unlocked the car and opened the back door, finding the bag and unzipping it. He was about to ask what to grab, but didn’t because he saw it already – a picnic blanket. Grinning, he took the plaid blanket out, zipped the bag back up, and left the car, locking it at the end. “I thought it would be nice to bring along, just in case.”

“Glad you did, babe.” The two made their way over to the park. For once throughout the entire day. he felt less pressure and much lighter. Wandering around the dimly lit park in search of a good spot to sit, they eventually found one that was just perfect. It wasn’t very far from the empty playground and the pond that fireflies had swarmed around gave the waters a mysterious glow. However, just as Smoke was about to lay the picnic blanket down, he felt several drops of water hit him, and when he looked up, it began to rain. “Are you  _fucking_  kidding me?” And just by saying that, and as if Mother Nature had heard, it rained even  _harder_.

The two duos immediately made a run for the car, James using the picnic blanket to shield Mark from the pouring rain. He struggled to pull the car keys out of his wet jeans, but when he did, he quickly spammed the unlock button, opening the door for Mute whilst shielding him and closing it once he was in. He quickly made it to the driver’s side, flinging the door open and closing it after himself, quickly abandoning the blanket at the back of the car. They were both wet - well, Smoke was completely drenched and his clothes clung to his body uncomfortably. Glancing over at Mute, they both stared at one another before bursting into a fit of laughter.

“To think it could got worse than this,” James laughed, clutching at his stomach. “This has to be one of the worst dates you’ve been on.”

“Actually, one of the best. It’s different and I like it, but you look like a wet dog.”

“Pfft, feels like one, too,” he replied, brushing his wet hair back as best as he could, feeling the water droplets dripping into his already wet clothes and dampening seat.

“Hold on, I got a spare jacket,” Mark stated as he plopped the bag of food that somehow survived and reached for his bag, his hand wandering around until he felt the cotton feeling of his sweater. Yanking it out of the bag, he held it out to Smoke, “I’m a lot drier than you, so take it.”

He stared at the offered sweater before shedding his wet jacket, disposing of it to the back seats and then slipping on Mute’s sweater. It was slightly big for him but he liked it, and it felt nice against his cold skin. The sleeve, however, hung slightly over his hands, which was funny to his boyfriend. Snickering about it himself, he inserts the key into the ignition and started up the engine, “What do you say we go home because frankly, I’m quite done.”

The ride home was quieter than before, but it was a pleasant and comfortable silence. The music played softly and lulled Mute to sleep. He looked so peaceful and too handsome for his own good; Smoke beamed to himself and repositioned his boyfriend to a more comfortable position that wouldn’t have him waking up with a pain in the neck. Once back at base and the car was parked, the older SAS operator gently nudged the younger awake and indicated that they were home. A soft whine was the only response he received before the seatbelt was clicked open. Chuckling, he did the same and exited the car. He went to the back seat to collect everything, the vehicle beeped as it was locked, and the two Brits walked back to their room. They walked the same hallways in silence for everyone was most likely asleep - some could still be heard roaming the same hallways or were in the workshop working the night away.

Arriving at the SAS section of base, they threw the wet picnic blanket and Smoke’s jacket into their designated baskets to be washed. Mute made a pit stop at the kitchen to leave the brown bag on the kitchen counter, their names written on it to enjoy as breakfast. Walking over to where their rooms were, they stopped at Mark’s, Smoke watching as Mute unlocked the door and entered his room, shooting him a small smile. He wiped a strand of wet hair out of his beloved’s face and planted a loving kiss onto his lips. Taking a step back, James smiled his unique and cheeky grin before turning on his heel for his own room. Entering his own bedroom, he internally screamed and kicked himself for not asking to stay or do  _something_  to stay. Where did all his confidence go when he needed it the most? Sighing heavily, the Brit slid out of Mute’s jacket, smiling a little at the garment as a memory of when it was lent to him. Throwing the jacket onto the bed, Smoke was about to rid of his shirt when a knock on the door stopped him. Curious, he pulled his shirt back down to open the door. However, upon doing so, he was roughly shoved back into his own room and slammed against the door, closing it shut in the process. He grunted and had his eyes shut from the impact, pain running up his back and head, and he let out a string of curses.

“You kiss your boyfriend with that mouth?”

“Well, yes, now that you ask,” Smoke answered, now with a grin upon hearing the very familiar voice. He shot the other a frolicsome glance. “And I think he likes it. A lot.”

The shorter SAS operative could see a smile on Mark that was so different from all the ones he’d been showing all day. No, this one held more significance and it  _greatly_  excited him– in more ways than one. Mute’s warm hands roamed at his chest, one hand gliding under his damp shirt while the other travelled down south for the button of his jeans. Mark leaned closer to James’ ears, huskily whispering: “Lose the shirt,  _James_.”


End file.
